


Give into the Night

by Nathalaia



Category: Big Bang (Band)
Genre: Angst, BaeDae - Freeform, Comfort, DaeBae, M/M, Romance, TaeDae - Freeform, sundae
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-22
Updated: 2014-06-09
Packaged: 2018-01-09 15:37:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1147706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nathalaia/pseuds/Nathalaia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The heart is fragile. Daesung's heart is breaking and the only one who can possibly mend it is the one who's tearing it apart piece by piece.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, hi! This is my first work of fanfiction in the world of Bigbang that I upload online (and I've written 15+...). It is somewhat inspired by Disturbed with The Night. Not the lyrics per se, although the title is taken from the lyrics (give into the night). Besides that one sentence, this hasn't really anything to do with the song. I simply happen to love the song and the, err, mood and I got parts of the idea for this while listening to the song.
> 
> As you probably noted when you clicked on this fic and as is probably the cause for even looking at it, this is going to be a DaeBae (Kang Daesung x Dong Youngbae) fanfic, but the first chapter can more or less be about anyone, ha. Ah, and, eh, it is probably very ooc. But what do any of us know? Oh well.
> 
> First chapter is short, but it's more of an intro than a chapter, really, so fear not; chapters following Chapter One/Intro will be longer. I don't know how many chapters there'll be or when they'll be uploaded, though... And it's probably not going to be so angsty as this first chapter might suggest. Ah, well, who knows (certainly not me).
> 
> Daesung and Youngbae is a pairing that I adore, but oh-! There are just not enough fanfics with them out there! So, I'm writing this in the hopes of converting more DaeBae shippers. 
> 
> Oh, and also do note that English is not my first language. If you spot a mistake, feel free to notify me!
> 
> ... I think that's all. Have fun and tell me what you think!

I hear the rustling of bed sheets thrown aside and the dip of the bed as he sits up. My back is turned to him and my eyes are closed, but I know the routine. Now he stands up and in the darkness he searches for his clothes, redressing quietly.

“You’re leaving?” I ask monotonously, another routine, and I sense him still momentarily before continuing with what he was doing. He doesn’t answer. He knows I do not expect him to. 

I never cry. Not anymore. The first time, when I woke up in the middle of the night and found him missing, I cried more than I remember having ever cried before, even as a child. Needless to say, I didn’t get much sleep that night which wasn’t good for my skin or my mood or anything at all. Worst of all, _he_ seemed unfazed, smiling at me as and acting for all in the world like nothing at all had happened between us. I’d rather have had a knife imbedded in my chest than have him smiling at me like that. 

I wanted to hate him for using me like that, but I couldn’t, and soon I decided to ignore my feelings and just act normal around him despite the way it tore at my heart every time I looked at him. 

The second time it happened, I wanted to say no. I wanted to deny him, to shout at him for doing this to me, for tearing my heart apart and making me cry. However, he seemed fragile when he sat down by my side, brushing the bangs away from my face with an unexpected tenderness, and it was all it took for me to surrender myself to him once again. I was awake when he got up from the bed later and prepared to leave, but it was only once he had closed the door behind him that I curled up and cried as soundlessly as his departure. I let the silent sobs wreck through my body and hugged the pillow tightly with one arm, the other hand pressing against my chest to where my heart felt like it was about to burst.

I got little sleep that night, too, and when I woke up everything was back to normal, him acting like nothing had happened and me hiding the hurt behind my smile. I acted with him again, appearing to all the world like nothing was tearing at me, like nothing was threatening to split my heart in two or a million of miserable pieces. The others never noticed anything about the way he and I interacted with each other. No one suspected anything.

On the third night my resolve was already weak the moment I heard the door open and close again, and when I felt him lean over me, fingers brushing over my neck, I turned over and met his lips without a word. I didn’t cry. My chest stung, but I didn’t cry, not once, not even when he left. I didn’t cry the fourth or the fifth or even the sixth time he came to me. I never cry. Not anymore.

The stinging in my chest is ever-present, but I’ve learned to push aside my feelings and thoughts and just be grateful for what I can get, even if there is no love from his side. 

He doesn’t come to me every night, but on the nights that he does, I’m ready for him. I’ll take everything I can get from him, everything he is willing to give me, even if it’s only in the refuge of the night. In the day I’ll act as if nothing is wrong, as if nothing has happened.

I’ll act like that even if my chest is stinging, even if my heart is splintering and even if I feel like I’m dying. I’ll hide it, smile and laugh and no one will be any the wiser.

As long as he keeps coming to me, I can lull myself into believing that he loves me, if only for a night.

Maybe my heart has already shattered and cannot be mended. Maybe the splinters of my heart are what’s causing my chest to hurt so much.

I hear the door close behind me and finally I open my eyes, meeting nothing but the darkness of my room.

The fragments of my heart are hurting me.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally I'm somewhat content with this part, at least enough to upload it. I really, really do hope it's not boring and/or too long. Nothing much happens, or so I think, soo...

“Why aren’t you eating?”

I frown down at the plate of food before raising my gaze to Jiyong. He’s looking back at me with a slightly concerned look in his eyes and therefore I quickly make a smile take form on my lips. He’s not supposed to be worried.

“I _am_ eating,” I assure him, lowering my eyes to the food and quickly stuffing some of it into my mouth despite not feeling hungry at all. Quite the opposite, in fact. I feel like a single bite will result in illness, and yet, just to show Jiyong – and the others – that I’m not lying, I swallow the mouthful and hereafter try not to cringe. 

“Be sure to eat plenty,” _his_ voice sounds to my right and this time I _do_ cringe, making sure to look down so they don’t see it. “The schedule today is going to be busy.”

I nod slowly, forcing another bite down as I steal a glance at him. He’s turned around to chat with Seunghyun, smiling as he says something I don’t register. I focus on my food again and poke to it with my chopsticks. I’m not going to eat more. I can’t. 

The friendly chatter around the table is almost too loud as I stand and bring my plate to the sink, quickly cleaning it and putting it away. I feel restless and so I gather the others’ dishes, smiling at them when they thank me. When I take Youngbae’s dish, however, and he looks at me with gratitude and a smile, I can’t stop my own forced smile from cracking a bit. Quickly I move back to the sink and clean up, gathering everything else from the breakfast and taking care of that, too. When there’s nothing more to wash, I lean over the sink and close my eyes, trying to just relax and act _normal_. 

It’s getting harder. It _shouldn’t_. I’m supposed to have my feelings, my thoughts, _everything_ in a lock-down. 

A hand on my shoulder almost has me screaming and I turn around on the spot, in return scaring Seungri who holds up his hands in an apologetic manner. 

“Sorry, hyung!” he says, smiling hesitantly at me. “I shouldn’t have sneaked up on you. Sorry. It’s just… You didn’t seem well.” He frowns at me and then shakes his head. “No, not _didn’t_ , you still _don’t_. You’ve been… distant all morning. Is something wrong?”

I must get my act together. It’s my own fault for messing up. I can’t let them know. 

“Don’t worry, maknae,” I tell him, doing my best to make the smile I give him friendly and as honest as can be. “It’s nothing.” When he doesn’t seem to buy it, I quickly add, “I think I’m just a bit tired. I didn’t sleep well.”

He nods then, smiling at me and patting my shoulder. “That’s how some nights are. I’m sure Jiyong hyung would tell you to take it easy if he were me, so I’ll say it for him! Don’t overdo it today, okay, hyung?”

I keep the smile on my lips as I nod. “I got it, maknae. Now, go and get ready for the photoshoot. We’ll be leaving soon.”

He nods, patting my shoulder one time more before he speeds off to prepare. A glance around and I find that the others have left, too, leaving me alone in the kitchen. I lean against the counter and sigh, running a hand over my face. 

The fragments are hurting and the pain intensifies for each day despite my best attempts at locking my feelings away. I’m not meant to hurt. I’m not _supposed_ to hurt. I must try harder. I can’t let it affect me like this.

I turn around and find a glass that I fill to the brim with water, drowning it and then cleaning it up. Feeling a bit better, I move to my room to get ready for the photoshoot. 

And to practise a smile in the mirror.

xXx

Once at the set two hours later, I sit down and wait for it to be my turn. First on the programme is solo shoots and Jiyong starts. I sit beside Seunghyun and watch Jiyong do perfectly as always while Youngbae and Seungri are off to the side, Seungri chatting with Youngbae as he prepares for his turn.

I do not except anyone to make more remarks about this morning, but I am proved wrong.

“You didn’t eat up,” Seunghyun comments without looking at me and I freeze, glancing at him from the corner of my eyes. I swallow before I eventually answer with a timid, “I wasn’t hungry.” He snorts and looks at me shortly before focusing on Jiyong again. “Maybe you didn’t feel hungry, but that’s not the main reason for not eating,” he says and I lower my eyes to my feet, nervously wringing my hands. How come they have all observed something not right today?

“I’m going to the bathroom,” I announce and stand up from the chair, quickly leaving before he gets the can say anything else. My turn is second last and so I am allowed to stay in the bathroom for a few minutes at least. I lean over the sink, staring at my reflection in the mirror.

I do not look well. No surprise the others are finally starting to notice. How come I only just see that now?

I trace the dark circles under my left eye with a finger, frowning at myself. I haven’t slept well in what feels like forever, but is it really this bad? If I’m not careful, I’ll take maknae’s place as the fans’ panda. At that thought I splash some water onto my face and then use a minute to just breathe. 

Exhale, inhale, exhale, inhale…

I dread going back out there, but if I stay here for much longer the others will take notice and wonder what’s taking me so long, maybe even come and-

“Your turn is up next. Kodi noona is waiting for you.”

How long have I been out here? It should have been at _least_ ten minutes before my turn, and knowing how these shoots usually go, it might as well have been twenty.

I avoid looking at the mirror because I _know_ that he’ll be right behind me and I don’t want to look at him. I let out a deep breath and straighten up, shaking myself out of it. That little one minute breather must have been longer than I intended.

I turn around and walk past him on the way to the door, keeping my eyes before me and away from him. He doesn’t say anything as he follows me back out. I put on a smile for everyone as kodi noona scolds me for taking so long and immediately pulls me away to fix my makeup. I apologise as she begins to apply foundation and she shushes me, saying I’ll ruin the makeup if I talk.

And so I sit still and let her do her magic. She’ll hide the dark circles skilfully so that no one will be able to spot them and once before the camera, I’ll make sure to smile brightly so that nobody will suspect anything. I am the _Smiling Angel_ , am I not? I can smile. I will smile. 

When kodi noona is finally satisfied with my makeup and hair, she helps another noona choose some clothes for me and after dressing into this, I get before the camera to smile and pose. At one point I accidentally glance towards Youngbae and when I meet his gaze, I feel my control slip for just a second before I get it back and concentrate on the shoot.

When my turn is over, Seunghyun is ready and after him we’ll have group shoots and maybe a couple of pairs or threes. Until then I sit down and look at Seunghyun getting his photos taken without really _seeing_. 

“You didn’t eat up this morning.”

Nosy friends they are today, huh?

Jiyong sits beside me and leans forward to rest his chin on his palms. “Not going to explain?”

I shrug and keep my eyes on Seunghyun. “I wasn’t hungry, is all.”

I hear Jiyong sigh and then sense him shift. Then his hand is on my forehead and I start, finally moving my eyes from Seunghyun to him. “Hyung?”

“You do not have a fever,” he murmurs, removing his hand and looking intently at me. I shift under his hard stare. “If you feel unwell, you’ll tell me, right?”

“Of course, hyung,” I promise, smiling. His frown just deepens but luckily we’re called back to the set, Seunghyun being done with his solos, and so I quickly stand up and join the rest for our photos before he can say anything else. 

The group photos are not a problem, but then it’s time for some pairs and the photographer wants Youngbae and me to pair up for a shoot. I fist my hands to stop them from shaking and take in a deep breath as I join Youngbae. 

How can he be so unfazed by everything? How can this not affect him at all? I feel angry at him yet envy him for being able to take it so well. If only that were me. 

The noonas quickly assure that everything – clothes, hair, makeup – is as it should be as we line up for the photos. Youngbae’s smiling and looking at Jiyong, shouting something to him, but despite standing just before him, I don’t hear what he says. There’s just a kind of whooshing for my ears…

“Daesung-ah?”

This is getting out of hand.

I blink and look at Youngbae, seeing him frown just slightly. “You’ve been acting odd all morning,” he observes and I grimace. Even _he_ took note of it?

“I’m _fine_ ,” I stress, not wanting him of all to worry about it. If he even worries. Maybe he’s just mentioning it because my incompetence to act well affects everyone… “It’s nothing,” I add when I see that he’s about to open his mouth. I pointedly keep my gaze on some point over his shoulder as I’m sure looking him in the eyes once again will not be wise. 

He doesn’t say anything further, but when I have to act all friendly with him for the sake of the photoshoot, I can feel his eyes on me, more intense than necessary for the shoot, and I have to fight myself to not flinch when he at one point hugs me, reminding me of the nights we’ve shared together. I have to keep my hands from shaking, have to look at him and smile and laugh, have to keep the act up. Once, this was easier.

I don’t think I lied when I told Seungri earlier that I hadn’t slept well. I’m not usually like this, not even the morning after a night with Youngbae.

I must once again shake myself out of my musings and try to focus on the shoot and Youngbae and smiling. We’ll be done after a few more poses and then I can excuse myself to the bathroom and take another breather. I’m in desperate need of it.

A few minutes later I place the prop I was holding for the last picture on some table, but before I can even take a step towards the bathroom, a hand reaches out and closes around my wrist. I turn around to see Youngbae frowning at me and my breath hitches. The fragments are hurting and I _need to get away_ but he’s blocking the path and-

“Daesung-ah,” he calls, softly, and I close my eyes shortly before looking at him again. “Calm down. I told you to eat back at the dorm.”

“I _am_ calm. I _did_ eat,” I insist and jerk my hand free from his grasp, feeling how my heart is beating way too fast in my chest. “I’ll be back soon,” I say quickly and then almost run to the bathroom. Here I once again lean over the sink and almost gasp for air, not really understanding why I’m like this today. What’s wrong? My nightly escapades with Youngbae have been going on for at least a couple of months now, so why am I suddenly like this? Maybe I shouldn’t skip breakfast again. I’ll make sure to get a lot of sleep the next couple of days, too. Me being like this affects everyone I’m with and it’s not acceptable. I have to try _harder_.

I can’t splash my face with cold water as I’d risk ruining the makeup, so instead I stare at my reflection and concentrate on breathing slowly, calming down. I’ll do better. I’ll act better. Now is not the time to freak out.

I stand without moving a muscle for a minute before I eventually return to the set, ignoring the others’ eyes on me as I join them. I only send them a smile before I join Seunghyun on the set, getting our photos taken and posing differently after a few pictures. I try to make some light jokes now and then and it seems to do the trick as Seunghyun laughs with me. The others’ seem to relax, too, smiling, and my own smile becomes slightly more honest. I do not like to worry them. My problems are mine and mine alone. 

Unconsciously, I lift a hand to my chest just where my heart is and rub gently.

xXx

When the photoshoot is over, we just have time for a light lunch before heading each our way. Jiyong and Youngbae are off to the studio, Seunghyun leaves as he has a meeting with some director about a role in his new movie and lastly, Seungri and I agreed to go for an interview. Once the interview is over, Seungri and I laze around in the dorm for a time until I decide to exercise to get my thoughts sorted out and then, after almost two useless hours of that, I remove my makeup from earlier and bathe. Feeling restless, I decide to clean my room and, once everyone’s back home, cook dinner and hopefully make them forget my odd behaviour for the most parts of the day. I’ll act like usual and then everything will be forgotten. 

The others return late in the evening, but despite this I still cook up something to eat and they are all grateful and eat with good spirits. I promised myself to eat at the photoshoot, and so I _do_ eat, but not much. I still feel the same uneasiness. 

I wanted to clean up after dinner, too, but Little Seunghyun insisted that he’d do it and so I didn’t really object. Instead I moved to my room and stayed there for the remainder of the evening, appreciative for the peace and quiet. 

At some point, there was a knock on my door and Jiyong’s voice asked if I were awake. I didn’t answer and when he opened the door ajar to look inside, I lay still in my bed and pretended to be asleep. He left again and I let out a heavy sigh, idly wondering about the reason for him coming to see me.

I’ll act better tomorrow and clear all suspicion of theirs.

I’m somewhere between sleep and awareness when I feel the dip of the bed at my side. A hand comes to rest in my hair, gently stroking the locks as I blink the sleep away from my eyes, turning over to find the dark silhouette of what can only be Youngbae.

Two nights in a row? That hasn’t happened before.

His fingers intertwine with mine as he leans forward to plant a soft and, dare I say it, sweet kiss on my lips. I respond automatically, eyes closing by themselves as he presses my hands into the pillow and leans closer yet, his body covering mine almost like a blanket as he settles above me, a knee on each side me.

His hands are warm. His hair is tickling my skin. His lips are soft, moving slowly against mine.

How I wish I could feel all this whenever I wanted to and not just some moments every month in the refuge of the darkness of the night. 

However, I’m happy about things as they are now. I am. _I am_. 

The pain caused by the fragments intensifies for a second as Youngbae moves on to trail soft kisses over my neck, breathing heavier than two minutes ago. I cringe and then the pain is gone and I’ve forgotten. Now I just need to _feel_ him. I need to believe that he at least loves me during _this_. 

So long as he loves me in the night, I’m alright.

There are nights where he is close to being aggressive, however, tonight he’s gentle and caring. He takes it slow, showers me with kisses, caresses me and makes me feel wanted, _loved_. He doesn’t talk once, but then, he never does. The only sounds I ever get from him are sighs and maybe even whimpers or groans, muffled against my heated skin as he grabs the sheets or my wrists tightly.

I must have already been asleep when he leaves, because he can’t possibly have breathed those words in my ear. I must have been dreaming.

There’s no reason for him to say _I’m sorry_. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: I have no idea of where this is going. Exiting, isn't it?
> 
> Alright, that's only partially true. I have an idea, but, err... Well. Who knows. I do not think this gets more than five chapters at most, though. But, again, who knows? You're welcome to come with ideas in a review or message.
> 
> By the way, one sentence that really annoys me is the sentence where Seungri 'holds up his hands in an apologetic manner'. Is it correct to write so or..?
> 
> Well, enough with the blabbering. I hope you enjoyed and will stay with me for the next chapters. And lastly: Do you prefer "Give into the Night" or "Fragments of the Heart"? I'm contemplating changing the title, but I'm not too sure. Tell me what you think! 
> 
> Next chapter will be up in a week or two, I think. We'll see. Thanks for reading!
> 
> Update (25/01/2014): Ignore the 'Note' underneath this one if you can see it. It is to Chapter 1, but I can't remove it...
> 
> Update (27/01/2014): Next chapter is finished and will be up when I've had some time to edit it. A couple of days at the most!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Update time! Yes, yes, you guessed it, the new chapter is here!
> 
> So, first up, I really do think it's a shame that none of you will get the, err, metaphor I use at some point(s) in this fic. Shame, really... (Maybe I should call this chapter Daisies and Suns? Lol.)
> 
> Hmm... Oh, and I am still contemplating changing the title from Give into the Night to Fragments of the Heart. Which one do you prefer?
> 
> Hmmm... Was there anything more? I don't think so.
> 
> Oh, wait, there was: Don't kill me or the Sun, please?
> 
> Have fun reading! (I hope it's okay, by the way, and not too sudden or... anything. Ugh.)
> 
> PS/warning: I love drama.

Almost two weeks go by before he comes to me again, this time so late that I’m already asleep when he enters the room as stealthily as a ninja. I wake up when he’s just about to leave and reach out to grasp his wrist, muttering a drowsy, “I’m awake.”

He stills for a moment before turning around to face me, falling down on the bed on his knees. I sit up but am quickly pushed back down by a hand to my chest and I look up at him, blinking owlishly, still not fully awake yet. A soft sound escapes him then – I faintly identify it as a chuckle – before he leans down and presses his lips against mine in a soft kiss.

I respond with everything I’ve got, just like always. I give and he takes and what little he gives back, I happily accept with open arms. Just like always.

He’s more passionate this time around, leaving me breathless more than once, and I muffle my cries against the pillow or his mouth or other parts of him, my hands flat on his shoulder blades or buried in his hair as I arch against him.

My body, my soul, _everything_ that is me longs for him. I love him so much that it hurts. If I were a flower and he the sun, I’d stretch towards him, wanting nothing more than to reach him, and that I’d do all the day and then when night came, I’d wait patiently for him to appear again and when he finally did, I’d once again reach for him. It’d be impossible, I know, at least until winter arrives and I’d die. Only then could I join him as one of the stars by his side and stay there until forever.

Unlike other nights, I watch him with half-lidded eyes as he redresses quietly. He knows I’m watching his every move, yet he does nothing, says nothing. He just leaves through the door once he’s done and I close my eyes, letting thoughts of suns, flowers and impossible love take hold of my dreams.

xXx

My dark circles are getting worse and my skin looks damaged, unhealthy and pale. I grimace at my reflexion in the mirror on my room, doing my best to cover it all up with countless of creams and makeup and other products meant to clean and help your skin, make it seem healthier and softer and prettier. The others often tease me because of all my skin products, but I pay them no mind. 

Only when I’m satisfied do I join the others. Only when I’ve covered up all traces of my agony. Only when I’ve put on a smile on my face, perfected in the mirror to give away nothing of my inner turmoil and pain.

I’ve almost stopped eating unless they watch me, which they sometimes do. This morning, luckily for me, only Seunghyun is home and he’s still sleeping when I get down. I let out a relieved sigh at not having to put on an act right from morning.

I don’t have to face Youngbae either. Today is one of those days where I cannot easily be around him. Today is one of those days where I’ll do everything to avoid him whenever I can. There are other days, though, where I’m desperate for his voice and presence.

He’s slowly breaking my heart, taking one fragment a day. What will happen when there are no more pieces to take, when my heart is no longer? Will I wither and die, just like the flower in winter, or will I continue living like this just without my heart, unable to feel anything? 

I press my hand to my chest, to my heart, feeling how it beats. When will the fragments all be gone and when will I stop hurting? When will it all end?

I remember the first time Youngbae came to me. I remember it as if it had been yesterday when it really was months ago. He had been edgy all day and I had tried to talk to him, worried about him. He’d pushed me away, mentally and physically, refusing to answer my concerned questions about his wellbeing. 

To this day, I still think he had expected to find me asleep when he entered my room that night. When he realised that I wasn’t, he looked torn; seemed to both want to run and stay. I had made the decision for him, holding out my hand, and he had accepted it.

I had thought it was his way of saying that there was _something_ between us.

He had been aggressive that night. He had held my wrists tightly as he pressed a hard kiss to my lips, but I hadn’t minded. Still don’t. I think the cause might have been his insecurity as it had been a whole new territory for him. 

I remember the second night clearly, too. Two weeks after the first one. He had been gentle.

“Good morning, dongsaeng.” Seunghyun’s voice shakes me from my musings and I turn around to face him, sending him a bright smile. 

“’Morning, hyung!” I greet back and he smiles cheekily, off to get some breakfast.

“Did you already eat?”

“I did.” The lie falls easily from my lips as I reach for a glass. I might not have that much of an appetite, but I can at least drink something. As I fill the glass with water, Seunghyun replies with a hum and then asks if we have any eggs left.

I’m glad he doesn’t ask about anything else.

I watch him for some time before glancing out of the window, blinking once, twice, thrice, eyes widening. “Hyung, look.”

Winter is approaching with rapid steps. The year’s first snow is falling and is covering everything in a fine layer of glittering ice.

And with winter dies the flower.

xXx

Exhaustion is something I know well these days. I’m always tired, always feeling weak. Luckily, these days are quiet and so I make sure to sleep as much as possible, but it only helps to a certain extent. 

I know of another factor that is the cause of my fatigue, but I ignore it to the best of my abilities.

However, it’s starting to show again and the others are noticing, much to my regret. My smiles are so far putting them off questioning me, but I’m sure it’ll happen sooner or later.

I sit by the window one night when I hear the door open, but when it doesn’t close immediately after, I glance back to find Youngbae standing in the doorway, looking at me with… a frown? Because I’m not in bed at this hour? I frown back at him and that makes him step into the room and close and lock the door behind him. 

I do not move from my position at the window, instead staring out at the falling snow, the frown not leaving my face as his presence has led me to think of the winter.

I feel cold. 

He comes to stand behind me and neither of us says anything the next five minutes at least. I almost forget he’s here. Almost, but then I feel his arms around me and he pulls me to my feet, dragging me back to bed. 

I do not object as he tugs me in, but when he appears to be about to leave, I reach out and stop him by grabbing his shirt. “Don’t leave.” Was that my voice? It sounded so… desperate. So pleading. But I _am_ desperate. I recognise this when he turns around and looks at me, still with a frown evident in his face. I don’t want him to just leave me again. 

“Daesung…” he speaks, hesitantly, and I let out a low sound, some kind of whimper, maybe, and tug at his shirt, silently urging him closer. He tries to step away but I’m not letting him. _He can’t just leave_. If he leaves…

“Don’t,” I repeat and tug again, and he resigns, shoulders sagging and eyes closing for just a moment before they open again and he sits on the bed, moving over to more or less sit in my lap. I let out a deep breath I didn’t know I’d been holding in when he places a hand on each of my cheeks and leans in to peck my lips. 

It’s the first time something like this has happened. He had been about to leave… But why? Didn’t he come here for a reason? For this reason? I don’t understand. His kisses are slow, too, almost doubtful, and a cold hand grasps my heart. Is he regretting? Is that why? Doesn’t he want _this_ anymore? The thought alone adds to my desperation. He _has to stay_. I can’t watch him walk away. _I can’t_.

I don’t know if he feels my desperation, insecurities, but in any case he decides to put more feeling into our kisses and his touches, and so my fears are soon dulled and I can focus on the feelings alone and not the thoughts.

At least, it works until he stands to leave later and I reach for his wrist again.

It’s not going as per usual. Nothing about this night is _normal_. Nothing is going by the routine. He doesn’t move, but he has turned to stare at me, at my hand keeping him from leaving.

“What is it?” he asks, voice low, and I close my eyes and let him go. He stays where he is for a moment before he moves to leave. Only when the door closes do I speak out into the darkness.

“I love you.”

I’m close to tears this night, but they do not fall. I refuse to let them. 

I feel even colder than before.

xXx

“I can’t continue this.”

I stare at him, not really knowing how to respond to his words.

We’re currently alone in the makeup room, the others having already left for the show we’re supposed to appear on for an interview. I didn’t sleep last night nor did I eat too much for breakfast. I caught Seunghyun eying me before we left for the location, but he hasn’t voiced his thoughts. Yet. And now Youngbae is spilling out nonsense, sitting with his back to me on a chair in front of a mirror, but I can’t even see his eyes because he’s wearing a hat, efficiently hiding them from me. He’s been ignoring me all day, but now…

“What?” I ask, slowly and quietly, wanting him to say something else, wanting him to shake his head and smile, say, “It’s nothing.”

“We have to stop,” is his words, though, and I almost stop breathing. 

“What do you mean?”

“Daesung!” he says, tone rising slightly as he turns around in the chair to face me. “We can’t. _I_ can’t. This can’t keep on. I’m ending it.”

“You’re ending it,” I repeat dully. 

Youngbae looks at me shortly before he turns away. “I am. Last night was just that. The last.”

If my heart wasn’t already torn, it certainly would be now. “Why?”

“ _Daesung_ ,” he groans, exasperated. “Can’t you see why? I-“

“You haven’t thought about me at all?” I ask, tone steadily rising together with my anger, my disbelief, my pain. “ _You_ were the one who came to _me_ , remember? Why did you do it? _Why_?” When he doesn’t answer, I blink away the tears gathering in my eyes and fist my hands, slamming them down on the table. “ _Why, Youngbae!_ ”

“It isn’t right.”

Before I can even think to answer him, there’s a knock on the door and Jiyong peeps in, eyebrows rising when he sees us. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing, Ji,” Youngbae says and I have to look away from his smile. I can’t look at it. Can’t stand seeing him being so unaffected by all of this. 

Jiyong doesn’t seem entirely convinced, but he lets it go and instead says that we should get our asses to the set as the show is about to start.

Youngbae nods and leaves and Jiyong turns to me, frown deepening. “Daesung-ah?”

“I’m coming,” I say and I don’t even care that my voice sounds pained, the cheeriness forced. I move away from the table and around Jiyong who throws me a worried look that I downright ignore. I feel shaky enough already, so confused and _angry_ , and I can’t deal with Jiyong’s concern now. 

Fate has it, though, that I’m seated beside Youngbae for the interview and try as I might, I can’t quite keep my cheery attitude whenever the interviewers say or ask something that force me and Youngbae to answer together or fool around. He’s better at it than I, acting like nothing’s wrong. 

I feel uneasy, unwell, _ill_ even. I feel like I’ll throw up or faint or _both_.

The interviewers have turned their attention to Jiyong to ask him about his new hairstyle. I take a glance at Youngbae, catching the amusement visible on his face from watching the others fool around and answer questions, and I feel how my heart almost stops beating.

“I don’t get it,” I mutter, turning to look at Seungri who yells something about him being better than Jiyong. Don’t quite catch _what_ he supposedly is better at, though. “How can you be so unaffected by everything?” I put most on my concentration on smiling and Youngbae laughs at something Seunghyun said.

“I’m not unaffected,” he insists and I snort, turning to look at him, still keeping a bright smile on my face as to not give anything away to those who might see this.

“Really?” I ask, smile widening even more despite the pain in my chest, despite the rapid beating of my heart, despite the cold sweat over my body and even despite the dizziness. “You sure do seem happy. That’s good.”

“This doesn’t make me _happy_ , Daesung,” he whispers before laughing. I, however, note the intensity in his eyes and know his laughter isn’t real although it’ll probably fool everyone else watching. 

My hands are shaking and so I fold them in my lap in an attempt at stilling them, smile dimming just a bit. “It doesn’t make you sad either. You said this isn’t right. Why isn’t it? What’s wrong about it?”

“Daesung, this really isn’t the time,” he points out and I _know_ it isn’t. This is probably the worst thing I could possible do, the worst place I could possibly choose, the worst timing I’ve possibly ever had, but I’m falling apart and it’s his fault, and I want to know _why_. 

“I don’t care,” I whisper, not doing a show out of hiding the pain in my voice. He hides a wince and then laughs in such a fake manner that I’m sure not even an idiot will be fooled. “Why isn’t it right? I want an answer. I _demand_ an answer. Is it because of your belief in God? Or the world and what it has to say? _What is it?_ ”

Youngbae doesn’t answer right away and when he finally does opens his mouth, a reply forming on his lips, we’re interrupted by one of the interviewers calling our names and we both turn eye smiles to him, laughing at something he says despite it not being funny at all.

About fifteen minutes later there’s a break on half an hour and before I can even think of rising from my seat, Jiyong’s standing before us, glaring at us with something akin to anger mixed with concern. I think. Or maybe it’s just anger. I shrink in my seat and lower my eyes, knowing the cause of his anger.

“I don’t know what’s going on between the two of you, but it has to stop _right now_ ,” he says slowly, punctuation every word. “Don’t think I didn’t see you whisper to each other during the time where the MCs had their attention on me and Seunghyun hyung. You might be able to fool everyone else – and I sure hope you do as I don’t want to deal with people asking about you two’s relationship or questioning our group because of _you_ – but I am _not_ fooled. I want you out and I want you to deal with this – whatever it is. If it isn’t dealt with during this break, then I expect that you can at least forget in until after the interview or I _will_ do something about it. Am I being clear?”

“Yes, hyung,” I mutter just as Youngbae interjects with a, “Ji-“

“No, hyung,” Jiyong says, focusing his glare on Youngbae only – and is it just me or is his glare actually harder when looking at Youngbae? “Get out and deal with this. _Now_. Go to the makeup room or some other place where there aren’t a lot of people. I don’t want _any_ of this to get out to the reporters or fans or anyone else, got it?”

This time we both nod, not daring to go against our leader. We stand up and scurry off towards the makeup room. I notice Seunghyun looking at us, too, frowning, and when I catch Seungri’s eyes he smiles hesitantly at me, a smile I can’t even return. Instead I look away and continue on our way, concentrating on my breathing and on ignoring the feeling of sickness in my stomach.

We stop just outside the makeup room and Youngbae turns around to face me, expression not really giving away what is on his mind. “Jiyong’s right.”

I fist my hands and close my eyes, refusing to look at him. “Is it?” I ask.

“Is what?” he throws back and I let out a shaky sigh before opening my eyes to look at him.

“What I said earlier. Does it have something to do with your religion?” At this his lips form a tight line and I blink away the beginning of tears and black dots. “And the world? Its people? South Korea? Does it have anything to do with what people might say to it? How they’ll react?” Again he doesn’t answer and I’m shaking, whether from anger or grief or frustration I don’t know. “Is it the fact that you, I don’t know, find me attractive or have feelings for me or anything of that kind? The fact that you might be homosexual or at least bisexual?”

“It has got nothing to do with any of that!” he suddenly exclaims and I hug myself, trying to ignore the unease I feel. “We just shouldn’t… We shouldn’t do it! It’s-“

“Are you sure?” I persist, almost glaring at him. “That it has nothing to do with anything else? That it has nothing to do with the rest of the world and their thoughts about it?”

“ _It has not!_ ” he cries and I close my eyes again, trying to forget the fury on his face. “I’m not homosexual or even bisexual or _anything_ of that kind. I’m _not gay_!”

I am _so close_ to lashing out at him. “ _Then why have you been with me for months?!_ ”

He sags and then grabs my wrist, pulling me with him into the makeup room and closing the door behind us. I’m not about to let him go, though. Not when he’s at fault for shattering my heart.

“Is that why you’ve only been with me during the night?” I shout, feeling the tears fall from my eyes and I do nothing to hold them back. Not anymore. “Because that way, you can hide in the darkness? _Is it_?! So that in the day you could wrap up your feelings or thoughts or _desires_ and then act like nothing? _Hiding it doesn’t make it go away!_ ”

“ _It’s not like that!_ ” he shouts, control slipping like mine. The control he’s had over himself for the past many months. _Finally slipping_. “I’m not one… who…” I blink and shake my head, but I can’t quite hear what he’s saying. I close my eyes and then-

The next thing I know, I’m leaning heavily against Youngbae, his hands on my shoulders. I blink away the dizziness and disorientation before pushing myself away from him.

“Daesung? Are you alri-“

“ _You don’t get it!_ ” I cry, feeling more tears gather in my eyes and in anger and frustration I hit his chest with my fists, knowing I’m not hitting nearly hard enough to hurt him. On top of those feelings, I’m feeling disoriented and sick and dizzy and I’m shaking and I can’t see clearly and I’m confused and not feeling well and my chest is hurting, my head is hurting and my _tears won’t stop falling_. 

“Daesung,” Youngbae tries again but I swat his hand away when he reaches for me, stepping back and ignoring how everything is spinning for a short moment before it stops. 

“I hate you, Youngbae, I really do, but I love you and I don’t know what to do. You’re lying to yourself, you _must be_ , but-”

“I’m not lying to myself,” he hisses and I hiss right back.

“ _Then tell me why you’ve been having sex with me for the last many months!_ ”

He winces again and eyes the door as if he worries that someone heard that. I angrily dap at my eyes but the tears keep coming and that just makes me more sad and frustrated. Another wave of dizziness washes over me and I steady myself against the table, waiting for it to disappear again. “Why won’t you tell me?” I grimace at him. “I-“

“I have no feelings for you and that’s it. I don’t know,” he answers steadily and I let out a sob, covering my mouth with a hand.

“Then _why_?” I ask, _plead_. I _need_ to know. Has he just used my love for him? Taken advantage of everything I’ve given him? My head is aching, my hands are still shaking, my whole _body_ is shaking, my breathing is too fast and I’m feeling cold and clammy and _it’s too much_. “For everything I’ve done… And for you not to feel anything. _Why_?”

There’s a moment where pictures of winter and flowers and suns appear in my head, but why? It doesn’t make sense.

The next thing I’m aware of is looking up on the roof and why am I lying down? And why is Youngbae shouting? What _is_ he shouting? My head is hurting and everything is hazy.

“Ji! _Jiyong_! Help!” he calls and I close my eyes again, wincing at the pain his loud voice is causing. My head is on his knee and why is it that? Why is he kneeling? Why is one of his hands on my cheek? “Daesung? Daesung, can you hear me? _Daesung_!”

I open my eyes and look up at him, trying to focus on his face, but I feel so sick that I close my eyes again soon after, unable to keep them open lest I throw up. I almost feel feverish. Maybe I _am_ feverish? I feel sick.

I’m faintly aware of his hand patting my cheek gently yet insistently and he’s calling my name again. Then his hand is on my forehead, sliding down to my cheek again a moment after.

“Jiyong!” I hear him scream again and I dimly wonder why his voice sounds like it’s breaking. “Jiyong! Someone!” His voice is fading and I grimace and the last thing I hear before I lose consciousness is Youngbae’s panicked, “ _Someone help!_ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... Sooo. I have no idea about what's going to happen now, so... You'll have to wait patiently for the next chapter that may very well be the last.
> 
> I hope you liked this new instalment. I am a bit nervous about uploading it, but... Here it is. Obviously.
> 
> I... think that's it. Until next chapter, readers!
> 
> Oh, and think about the titles and tell me which one you prefer!
> 
> Update (10/02/2014): After a long time where I didn't really know what to write in the next chapter, I finally figured it out and wrote 3/4 parts of it yesterday. I promise it'll be uploaded soon! Oh, and my plans are so far two chapters, so instead of being last, the next one will be second last! Stay tuned~


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter finally completed! But I have mixed feelings about it. Really. I'm not satisfied, but I don't know what to edit as I'm not entirely sure as to what I dislike... There's just something off about it. Please tell me your thoughts so that if you dislike it, I can change it. I'm even willing to rewrite the whole chapter. Maybe it would have been better if I melded the next chapter and this one together? Or if I rewrite the whole thing... Aiiish, this is so frustrating.
> 
> Nevertheless, I hope you enjoy reading - and tell me if there's anything off about it and what it is.
> 
> Oh, and Seunghyun talks a lot at some point in this chapter... Errr. I hope that's not bad? Or uncharacteristically or... something.
> 
> (Oh, and I added another metaphor. I should feel terrible, but I don't. Ha. However, it might also be very... sudden. Meh. Ah, sigh, this chapter...)
> 
> Erm... Yes, without further ado, I present to you:

_“… Protect… You and me… Bigbang… Love… Us… Society… Hide…Keep… Insecure… Denial…”_

I remember being awake in some time, asking Seunghyun and Seungri, the ones present, where Jiyong and Youngbae were. I remember the sound of sirens, too.

“They will come later. I believe Jiyong is giving Youngbae the scolding of a lifetime,” Seungri had answered, sounding slightly amused but also worried and pitying.

“Why?” I had wondered aloud, my consciousness already fading again, and therefore I only remember parts of Seunghyun’s answer. He had called me an idiot and asked why I had let it go this far, a question I had just answered with a blank stare. He had also assured me that Jiyong would get to me as soon as I felt better and that’s the last thing I remember before the blackness had taken over once again.

A voice is the next I hear, then, but I can’t quite make out everything they say. Only some words do I latch on to when I am in my state of somewhere between oblivion and consciousness. I feel something warm in my hand at some point, but then it’s gone again and my hand feels cold like the snow outside. As cold as my heart. 

When I open my eyes for the third time – I dimly remember being awake a second time, too, but I only recall the face of Jiyong and someone unknown before I blacked out again – I stare up at the roof, blinking slowly as I come to the realisation that I’m at a hospital. It’s the first time I’m awake and fully conscious, my mind or sight no longer fuzzy, and I sit up slightly and turn my gaze to the side, finding Youngbae with his head resting on his arms, face buried in the mattress I’m lying on. 

I watch him, my thoughts faraway. Only when he looks up with a jolt do I blink and _really_ look at him.

I don’t know how to react or what emotions I ought to experience at the moment. I feel cold, though. I feel terribly cold as I stare him down, for once not forcing a smile on my lips. 

I know, however, that the coldness is not physical but emotional and hugging or burying myself in a mountain of sheets will not give me back the warmth I once had.

“Daesung,” he finally speaks and I feel something in my chest, a sting, just by the sound of my name spoken from his lips. I look away, _can’t stand seeing him_ , and I feel him straighten up, reaching for my hand that I immediately pull away from him. “Daesung, please-“

“Shut up,” I whisper, fisting my hands. “I don’t want to listen. Why are you here? Why are you the _only one here_? Leave. I don’t want to look at you.”

“Please, Daesung,” he tries once again and I choose to ignore the desperation in his voice. “Just listen-“

“ _I said I don’t want to listen_!” I say, voice cracking halfway. I turn around to look at him, pulling at the anger I feel towards him, and I continue, voice gradually rising in volume, “I can’t stand looking at you! I want you to leave me alone. _Get out_. Once I return, I won’t be able to escape the presence of you, but while I’m here I want nothing to do with you, you hear?! _I want you gone!_ Please, you’ve hurt me more than enough already. My heart is shattered because of you, my _soul_ is shredded into _fucking pieces_ and it’s _your fault!_ I feel cold, so _immensely cold_ and it’s not something a blanket can help with! I feel like crying but I can’t and _you’re the reason why!_ So _get out!_ ”

He seems slightly taken aback and my chest heaves as I try to regulate my breath, hands fisting the sheets. He seems to hesitate, clears his throat, and despite looking towards the door he doesn’t move from his seat and I want to reach out and shake him and yell at him to leave.

My inner is in turmoil and if I’m forced to endure his presence much longer, I don’t know what I’ll do. My feelings are like a tornado, being slung around inside of me in one big chaos and I can’t quite grasp one of them and keep it. They’re like grains in my hand, slipping between my fingers.

My heart is hurting, my head is hurting and I’m feeling nauseas again and he _still hasn’t left_.

“I… I understand how you feel, Daesung,” he starts and I immediately cut him off.

“ _You don’t know anything!_ ” I scream at him and he winces. “You’ve been the one with the power all this time while I’ve only been your toy to play with! _Leave before I do something I’ll regret!_ ” 

He stands from the seat, rapidly walking a few steps towards the door where he pauses to look back at me, hand reaching for the doorknob but freezing halfway, and he seems pained while I just want to scream at him that he does not know pain.

He has _no idea_. 

I’m saved from saying or doing anything as the door is opened and Seunghyun looks inside, gaze moving from Youngbae to me and then back again. “Get out,” he says coolly and Youngbae finally succumbs, lowering his head as he walks past Seunghyun, out of my sight, and I feel I can breathe easily again. 

A hand on my chest forces me back down and I open my eyes that I apparently closed, staring up at Seunghyun. “I’ll stay here,” he informs me, sitting down on the seat that Youngbae occupied just a minute ago. “How are you?”

“I don’t know,” I answer, and I feel slightly bad for realising that that’s probably the most honest words I’ve told him in months. “I don’t know.”

“You fainted back at the interview,” he tells me, leaning back in his seat and folding his arms over his chest. “Youngbae’s calls for help were heard by one of the staffs and she sent someone for us while she stayed with you and Youngbae. We called for an ambulance and you were brought here. Jiyong stayed behind to finish the interview. Youngbae stayed, too, but did not join Jiyong. That happened yesterday. Now it’s around late noon.”

I nod slightly in acknowledgement, glad for the information. I _did_ wonder what had happened. The last memories are very, very hazy. I remember the fight all too clearly, though, but at some point my memories turn hazier and hazier until there’s only blackness.

“Daesung-ah.” Seunghyun shakes me from my musings and I turn to look at him, noting the solemnity in his tone. I blink up at him and his eyes soften slightly. He reaches forward to grab my wrist and holds it up for me to see, squeezing it gently but firmly. “My fingers can lock around your wrist, and while that in itself isn’t really alarming, the fact that your wrists are thinner than I ever remember them being _is_. You’ve lost too much weight, Daesung-ah. 

“You’re here because something went wrong – something that could have been prevented if you had just let _someone in_ , if you’d let someone take share in your burdens. Sharing your thoughts, feelings and troubles with someone isn’t _wrong_. That someone will not hate you for letting them in nor will they make fun of you. That someone will probably be proud for being the one you trust, the one you tell things to, and odds are that they’ll do their best to help and advice you. 

“The fact that you went through all of this without telling anyone saddens and angers me. I’m not angry at you, though. I’m angry at _us_ because you apparently do not trust your leader or maknae or even _me_ enough to let us in, and that’s _our_ fault, Daesung-ah. 

“But I really wish you had told _someone_ about this. Your parents, one of us, another friend… Just _someone_. If you’d told someone, we wouldn’t be here. You wouldn’t be lying in a bed at a hospital, fatigued, malnourished and broken. You wouldn’t have thought it necessary to hide your pain and force a smile to make the world think that you were okay. You wouldn’t have walked around in _months_ with no one to talk to, no one to share your pain with, no one to _help_ you. You wouldn’t have been the person sitting in front of me, the smile gone from both lips and eyes, looking sick and broken and _miserable_.”

He pauses in his speech to reach forward and brush away the tears slipping from my eyes. “But do not worry, Daesung-ah. We’ll help you through this. We are sorry that your problem got this big, eventually landing you on hospital. While we ought to have noticed how you slowly faded to this, your smile fooled us and made us think that whatever was going on, it would be fixed soon, but now that smile of yours is nowhere to be found, all because we didn’t try to see _through_ the act. But trust me, Daesung-ah. We’ll somehow get it back and everything will be _alright_. You’ll be alright, understand?”

I can only manage a nod and he smiles, patting my head with a warm hand. “We’ll solve this problem together, okay? So please do not give us such a scare ever again.” He pauses to let out a light chuckle. “Maknae almost started crying when we saw you and then again when the doctor informed us about everything concerning your health – and even added that it might not all be physical, but also psychological. He blames himself just like the rest of us.” 

He goes quiet again for a moment before continuing, voice softer, “Youngbae was also very worried. When we saw you in the makeup room, I think he was close to panic, yelling at us to help, to _do something_. He wanted to be the first one to see you again once the doctors let us and he even fought with both Jiyong and maknae. He has yelled at me, too, but he blames himself the most for you ending up like this. 

“Jiyong was also very worried, but as our leader he’s expected to act accordingly, so he was also frustrated and stressed, having to deal with the interview alone and somehow make up an explanation as to why you suddenly had to go to the hospital. He may seem angry when you see him next, but that’s only because he’s stressed out and cares about you.”

“Thank you…” I whisper slowly, quietly, and he pats my head again, throwing me a cheeky smile. 

“It’s alright,” he says, leaning back and stretching his limbs with a sigh. “It might be cloudy now, but behind those clouds are the sun and at some point the clouds _will_ be demolished by the sun’s warmth, in turn melting the snow and bringing forth spring.”

xXx

Jiyong _did_ scold me once he dropped by a couple of hours after Seunghyun’s grand speech, accusing me of being careless and irresponsible among other things. But he also assured me that he wasn’t angry at me per se, not really, he was just disappointed – in himself – and angry – at himself – and wished the problem hadn’t gotten that much out of hand. He said that as a leader he _ought_ to have noted that something was not right with one of his members, one of the persons he’s _responsible_ for.

He also asked of me to _take care of myself_ and not to do this _ever again_ if I held my life dear. And like Seunghyun, he said we’ll get through this together. Everything’ll be alright.

At one point, I think that they might exaggerate a bit in their worry. They act like I almost died.

But then I find my reflexion in a mirror and I realise why they are so worried. My skin is too pale, deadly pale, there are heavy bags under my eyes that look glassy and when I try to smile back at my reflexion, feeling slightly sick at what meets my eyes, I am grieved to find that I can’t even put on a fake smile anymore. 

I really do look like someone who nearly died. Maybe it’s reasonable that they worry as much as they do. 

I lay a hand flat on my chest, feeling how my heart beats steadily under my touch. I feel so cold, though. How can it still beat? How is my heart still able to beat after all the pain it’s been through?

I haven’t seen Youngbae since his last visit and I feel immensely relieved at that. I can’t see him now. 

I’m afraid I’ll lose myself completely if I do.

xXx

I leave the hospital as soon as possible, feeling better than I’ve felt in ages, yet also, somehow, feeling _worse_. The chill in my chest hasn’t left for even a moment and I continuously find myself rubbing the area just around my heart. It’s where the cold is worst. 

Is it the flower slowly withering, the life slowly ebbing out of it as winter caresses it with its deadly touch? 

I haven’t spoken to Youngbae yet. Haven’t seen much of him since our last encounter back at the hospital. I feel edgy and the others take note of it.

They notice everything now. The smallest crack of a tentative smile and Seunghyun’s there to put a reassuring hand on my shoulder, the rumble of my stomach and Seungri’s made a meal before I can even blink and Jiyong makes sure Youngbae stays away until I’m ready to face him.

If I ever will be.

“I won’t let you avoid him forever, Daesung-ah,” Jiyong says one evening. I steal a glance at him and play with the bracelet around my wrist. “He’s my best friend, after all, and I dislike seeing him in pain as much as I dislike seeing _you_ hurt. This affects Bigbang as a group. If our relationship with each other isn’t well, it will damage Bigbang, maybe even destroy it. I’m not saying you have to face him right now, but I won’t let you avoid him forever. You have to talk at some point.”

“… I know,” I whisper. “I don’t want Bigbang to end. We’re… We’re family. But…”

“Listen to him. Let him explain. I’m not saying you should fall back into whatever you were before or that you should forgive him; just listen to what he has to say.” Jiyong sighs softly and looks at me with gentle eyes. “I don’t know exactly what’s been going on, but this is the result. Youngbae has only told me bits and pieces here and there about what the two of you’ve been through. He’s my best friend and we usually tell each other everything, but this…”

“I’ll talk to him,” I promise my leader, smiling thinly. “I’ll be ready to face him soon, but I’m afraid of what will happen if I do it now.”

Jiyong leans forward and places a hand on my thigh. “It doesn’t have to be now. Just soon.”

I nod. “Soon.” I smile again, still a shadow of my real smile, but a smile nevertheless. Not a smile to conceal the pain. 

He squeezes my thigh before getting back on his feet, stretching his arms above his head. “That’s all I ask for.”

xXx

Youngbae is around, I see him, but the others keep him from approaching me. I think he’s starting to understand that I don’t want anything to do with him.

At least not yet.

I still have to brace myself for the inevitable talk. As Jiyong said, I can’t avoid him forever. At some point we’re going to be alone and at some point we’re going to talk whether I like it or not.

We soon have to get ready for more interviews, a more time consuming schedule and Yang Hyun Suk has talked about a new album. We’ll soon be busy and I can’t let my strained relationship with Youngbae ruin anything. Someone will take note and comment on it and that won’t do. We have to be perfect, or at least as close to as possible, to everyone else. 

And yet I keep postponing the talk. Every time I think about being alone with Youngbae, I feel sick and the chill in my chest feels even colder and I almost can’t breathe. 

I’m scared. I’m truly terrified of facing him again.

xXx

“What are you going to do?” 

Seungri has been the one with the least knowledge of how to approach this. How to approach me. He’s helped me in whatever way he could, but he hasn’t talked much with me. Hasn’t brought the topic up.

Not before now, at least.

I blink, looking up from the food to him. We’re alone, the three others having hit the gym. I wanted to go with them, but Youngbae’s presence held me back and so I’m alone with the maknae.

“About what?” is my answer even though I know what he’s asking about.

“Youngbae hyung,” Seungri evaporates nevertheless although I’m sure he also knows that I knew. “We’ll soon be busy again with interviews and stage performances. Are you going to keep this up until then?”

I frown slightly. “No. I am not.”

“It’s next week, hyung,” he says slowly. “I… I don’t want to see the two of you hurt much longer. Please figure something out soon, okay?”

I smile quietly, turning my eyes back to the food. “I will, maknae.”

xXx

I cannot run any longer. I know that the minute I hear steps outside of my door. They stop right outside and I wait in tensed anticipation for the door to open.

I can’t breathe.

There’s a knock, then, and Youngbae’s voice. “Daesung-ah. Please open the door and let me in.”

I sit without answering for a minute, fisting my shaking hands and trying to rub away the ice in my chest. The stinging. I take in calming breaths and look at the door.

I’m not ready. I’m going to break again, I’m sure of it. Or maybe ‘again’ isn’t the correct word. 

I never healed.

I’m barely aware of standing from my seat and walking to the door. Once before it, I slowly reach for the handle, taking a few seconds to breathe before I turn it down and open, breath catching in my throat once I meet Youngbae’s eyes.

He’s looking intently at me, opening his mouth to say something but then closing it again. Finally he asks, “Can I come in?”

I move to the side to let him in and close the door again when he’s entered, my back turned to him as I lean slightly against the door, not feeling ready for this at all.

“We need to talk,” he says, pausing for a moment before adding, “I… I’ve treated you worse than you deserve. If you can’t forgive me, I’ll… I’ll understand, but please just _listen_. Let me explain. Let me… Let me talk.”

“Then talk,” I whisper, closing my eyes for a moment before pulling myself together and turning around to face him. “I’ll listen.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please tell me if there's anything off about it, alright? I can't find it. Molla. Maybe I really should rewrite it and then keep it at one chapter instead of splitting it up in two? Uuuugh. Maybe it's because not much happens in this chapter... But I don't think that's it. Maybe the way I write them ('them' being Bigbang)? Dowajwoyo, jebal! 
> 
> Well. That's it for now. Next chapter (if I decide to not rewrite this or do anything else about it) will be up in... one to four weeks. We'll see. Thanks for reading!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quick what-has-happened: Daesung ended up on the hospital after fainting at an interview where he fought with Youngbae. Back at the dorm, he avoids Youngbae like the plague, but then Youngbae knocks on the door to Daesung's room and Daesung lets him in, preparing himself for the talk he doesn't really feel ready for but knows he cannot avoid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finally got around to complete this fic. Hope the ending is to your satisfaction.

Youngbae isn’t a mean person. He doesn’t have one ounce of evil in him. He’s always ready to lend you an ear, always ready to give you a helping hand. Youngbae’s a nice person. Youngbae doesn’t hurt anyone.

And yet here we are, standing in my room with an atmosphere that couldn’t possibly be any colder. I’m waiting for him to speak up but he seems to have troubles finding his words. I sigh and close my eyes, feeling uneasy. If only he left, but I know that this confrontation is long overdue.

I just wish it weren’t.

“I’m sorry,” is what leaves his mouth after a long silence and I must fight back a snort, opting to just fold my arms over my chest and stare at some point behind him. “I really am. I just… I didn’t know what to do.” I do not answer him and he continues, slowly, as if he’s thinking carefully about each word that leaves his mouth. “I… didn’t know how to act upon discovering feelings I didn’t know I could ever harbour; feelings I wasn’t _supposed_ to feel. I didn’t _want_ to do anything about them at first, but they only grew. I couldn’t get you out of my mind. I couldn’t do _anything_ without thinking of you. You infested my mind, my daily life, everything. I hadn’t planned on ever acting on the feelings, but that one night… That one night, I had to see you. I let my control slip just one time and that one time proved one time too much. If I knew you had been awake… I wouldn’t have entered your room in the first place.”

I’m convinced he isn’t done yet and I’m already feeling completely drained emotionally. I can’t help but snap at him, “If you had known?” This time I _do_ snort. “Maybe you really did think I was asleep, but a part of you hoped I wasn’t because then something might happen and you wouldn’t have to keep everything coiled up.”

“Daesung-“                                         

“Be quiet.” I drop down on my desk chair and run a hand through my hair, letting out a heavy sigh. “The thing is, it wasn’t _only_ that one night. It was that night and many others to follow because you didn’t stop. You didn’t _stop_ letting my hopes up. You didn’t _stop_ abusing me, didn’t _stop_ taking advantage of my love for you and that, _that_ … That’s why I can’t forgive you. My heart is in pieces and I don’t think it’ll ever be whole again.”

“Let me help,” he urges. “I can make it good again. I can make amends if you’ll let me.”

I’m up in an instant and the loud _smack_ that follows rings in my ears as I glare at him. He stares right back, eyes wide, a hand on his rapidly reddening cheek.

I can’t help but smile sardonically. The fans, what wouldn’t they think? Their _Smiling Angel_ , their innocent and always happy artist, reduced to _this_ by _one_ man. Their sun, my winter. Yes, yes, Youngbae wouldn’t hurt a fly and I would never get angry. We are the ones always smiling, always ready to help, the ones who’ll never hurt anyone else, certainly not on purpose.

The fans only know what we choose to show them.

“Right,” I mutter, stepping back and cradling my hand, the hand that struck him. It’s burning. “Wouldn’t that be fun. I’ll let you make try to make it better, but you’ll only use me again and I will let you because I’m _stupid_. Insane, maybe. Fucked up. That’s love, isn’t it? Love makes blind, makes stupid.”

“Daesung, don’t say that,” he sighs and my mouth forms a straight line. “Love does not make you stupid. You _aren’t_ stupid.”

“What am I then?” I ask him. “If I’m not stupid, then what? I allowed you to play with my heart for months, allowed you to break me over and over again. I lulled myself into believing it was alright. I gave you _everything_ and what did I get back? Nothing. Nothing at all. If _that_ isn’t stupid, then tell me, _hyung_ , what is?”

He makes a face, hand massaging his red cheek absentmindedly and I almost feel bad for hitting him. Almost, but then I remember how much he’s hurt me and I try to convince myself that what I feel is the satisfaction of being the one bringing _him_ pain for once.

“I’m the one being stupid,” he states, hesitates, then shakes his head furiously. “No, I’m not stupid; I’m a complete bastard. I’m thoughtless, selfish, brainless… I knew I was hurting you, but I didn’t stop.” He lets out something akin to a laugh, only it sounds much more strangled and _wrong_ and then, quite gracelessly, he flops down on my bed, burying his face in his hands shortly before running them through his hair in frustration and messing up his mohawk. “I loved you, I love you, but I didn’t know what to do about it, how to react. I was afraid, and yet I… I worried about everyone else but you. I worried about what they might say if they found out. You hid everything behind a smile while I repressed it. I tried not to feel anything and in the first few months, I kept in my own world of obliviousness. When I finally began to notice what effects… What effects I had on you, physically and mentally, I tried to stop. I did, Daesung, I really did, but you…” He smiles bitterly. “But I was addicted – I _am_ addicted. I tried countless of times to break it, but I wasn’t strong enough – not until that day. Too late and you suffered. You’ve suffered so much – _too much_.”

He cuts off and I simply stand and stare at him. I’m not quite sure what to think of his words.

“I resented myself when I left you the first time,” he mutters, a deep crease on his forehead as he glares holes into the floor. “I resented myself the next time and the time after that and I’ve come to resent myself each day, wanting to scream at the man I see in the mirror. When I look at you, I’m reminded of how much I hate myself because of what I’ve subjected you to.”

He’s crying, I note faintly, but I keep standing as if glued to the place. I’m feeling eerily indifferent to his tears, but I am pretty sure it’s only because I’ve locked up my feelings for him and thrown the key somewhere far, far away. I don’t want to find it again, don’t want to let myself become vulnerable again. I don’t want to feel the hurt.

The hand that hit him still burns, but his cheek must hurt worse than my hand.

“You know…” I whisper, flopping down on the chair again and letting out a tired sigh. “The flower dies with winter. It won’t ever come back. It has stood with its head held high for _so long_ , longing for the sun and never giving up, only to be crushed by the merciless winter’s cold.” I smile quietly, looking out the window and away from his gaze. “I was the flower that longed for you, the sun. It used to be warm and nice, but now there’s nothing but cold. Winter has come, Youngbae, and I fear I won’t escape its grasp. I’ll die just like the flower, still yearning for the sun in its lasting moments.”

I trail off for a moment to turn my gaze back to Youngbae and meet his eyes. I’m still smiling, I note. “The flower is stupid. It cannot reach the sun from the ground it’s bound to. It’s impossible. I cannot fathom why it tried and hoped.”

Youngbae watches me and I him for a while where not one of us speaks. His tears have dried on his cheeks and I follow the barely noticeable lines with my eyes, gaze snapping back up to his when he suddenly stands from the bed and walks towards me. He stops just in front of me and leans down, reaching forward but hesitating in the last moment, biting down his lower lip and watching me for some sign. I sit as still as a rock, merely blinking when his hand comes to rest on my cheek, a few fingers brushing away the tears apparently falling from my eyes.

He crouches in front of me, letting his hands fall to his knees as he looks at me.

“Is there _any chance_ you’ll ever forgive me?”

I worry my lower lip, fisting my hands and not wanting to look at him but forcing myself to not let my gaze stray from his. “I’m not sure,” I answer him truthfully. “I cannot figure out how you can ever earn back my trust.”

“I’ll prove myself to you,” he promises and I almost smile dryly. This reminds me of so many cliché romance movie lines. Will we get a happy ending like in the movies? I truly am not sure. I do not know how I can ever trust him again.

I still love him. My love for him hasn’t vanished just like that, unfortunately, but I’m done being his play-thing, done being someone he can bend to his will. I’m over it.

“I don’t know if you can,” I say softly.

“At least let me try,” he urges. “Please? If you’re willing to give me one last chance, one last try, I’ll not let you down, not once. I won’t hurt you again. I won’t make you cry again. I promise. Just please.”

I look at him, _really look at him_ , and the resoluteness in his eyes makes me frown. I don’t know what to do. Can I come to trust him again? Can he vanquish the cold?

I don’t know. I haven’t gotten a clue.

“Alright. I’ll try,” I say, slowly, thoughtfully, and there is a small, relieved smile on his lips.

“Thank you.”

xXx

What meets my eyes the following day upon entering the kitchen makes me stop short in my tracks, staring at the sight in front of me.

Seunghyun is holding an ice-pack out towards Youngbae whose head is tipped slightly backwards, a piece of paper pressed against his bleeding nose as he thanks Seunghyun for the ice.

“Jiyong will be back once he’s cooled down,” Seunghyun tells me, stare intense but gentle and I swallow, lowering my eyes from both of them.

“I told them,” Youngbae answers my unspoken question, letting out a sigh and then a hiss. I glance up and see him dabbing the paper against his nose, wincing every time he comes too close to the dark bruises around his left eye. “Maknae ran after him.”

I am alarmed, shifting on my feet. “Told them… what?” I ask, slowly, and he turns his head to give me a quick glance.

“Of us. Of me and of you, of what has been going on. I told them everything. I thought it would be a good start.”

“Jiyong hit him,” Seunghyun says, snorting when Youngbae winces again. “Lucky we don’t have any activity scheduled too soon. He called him a piece of shit.”

“He called me worse than that,” Youngbae murmurs and I bite the inside of my cheeks.

They know now? Everything? I don’t know if I can handle it. I didn’t want them to know – or, maybe I did, but not _now_ , not so suddenly. I don’t know if I’m ready for that.

I don’t really get time to do anything, however, as Jiyong decides to come back just then. Seungri is right behind him and Jiyong’s hard glare makes even _me_ wince though it’s directed at Youngbae. Then Jiyong turns to me, gaze softening, and he’s in front of me and dragging me away from the room in a matter of seconds.

He comes to a halt in his own room and turns to close the door once I’m in. Then he beckons for me to sit down and I wordlessly do so, sitting on his bed. He takes a chair and drags it in front of me before dropping down on it. Then he leans forward and rests his chin on his knuckles.

“How are you?” is his first question and I snort.

“I… guess I’m fine,” I answer him, averting my eyes from his and instead focusing on my hands in my lap.

I hear him sigh. “I cannot believe I – _we –_ never noticed just _what_ was going on. I don’t even… Is it really true, Daesung-ah? Have we really been that blind?”

I shift a bit, wringing my hands and biting my lip. “It… depends on what he told you. But, yes, I am pretty sure everything he said is the truth.” I chance a glance at him and see him run a hand through his hair, puckering his lips and frowning.

“God’s sake, Daesung, you should have _told_ someone,” he groans, catching my gaze. “I didn’t know it was like… like _this_. If I had known I wouldn’t have acted the way I did. I thought it was… I definitely didn’t think it was something like this. I feel insufficient as your leader and I’m at a lost right now. I don’t know what to do. Am I going to have to go to Yang-goon? Youngbae…”

“It’s alright, hyung,” I murmur. “We talked yesterday, him and me. I feel better. I can’t say I’m well yet, not at all, but… You know now. I think it helps to know.”

“Oh God, Daesung-ah,” he sighs, standing from the chair only to drop down beside me. He throws his arms around me and hugs me tightly. “I’m… We’ll help, alright? Just… whatever you need, we’ll help. If Youngbae… If something happens, I’ll do something about it, alright? You aren’t alone. Not anymore. Please confide in us, alright? I’m sorry.”

I’ve cried much recently, I think, and now I’m crying again. It’s so tiresome. I feel like I’ve cried enough already; I’ve shed tears enough to last for many, many years.

Now that they know, I feel lighter, like I can breathe easier again. At the same time, however, the fact that they now know what’s been going on between Youngbae and me is pushing me down. At least they aren’t judging.

“It’ll be alright, understand?” Jiyong murmurs after a couple of minutes. “I promise. I won’t let something like this happen again. I’ll be more attentive. I’ll be a better leader, alright? I’ll be a better hyung and a better friend. Trust me.”

“I do, hyung,” I say, smiling softly through the tears still falling from my eyes. “I do.”

xXx

I almost, _almost_ , feel bad for Youngbae when seeing how the others are around him. Jiyong, his childhood friend, glares holes in his back and the few words he says are like knives. Seunghyun is clearly dismayed, too, but, as the hyung, he’s trying to also take care of Youngbae, to some extent. Seungri doesn’t talk to Youngbae at all; he rarely even looks at him.

It has been a couple of days since Youngbae told them and they treat me like I’m made out of glass. It makes me slightly annoyed but I know it is only what one would expect. I’m happy for their support, at least.

Youngbae is trying. Small steps, I guess. He smiles hesitantly whenever I meet his eyes, but he rarely tries to talk with me. My guess is that he is either holding back, giving me my space, that he’s nervous or that he’s really not trying as hard as he said he would.

I don’t really believe it’s the latter, to be honest. Maybe it’s a combination of the other two possibilities I’ve thought of or maybe it’s something I haven’t considered.

That one is very likely, too.

“Good morning,” he greets softly once I come down from my room, yawning and still not quite awake. I stop at the entrance, looking at him with drowsy eyes and frowning. He’s the only one up, it seems, which isn’t that unusual, but it has been a long time since we have been in the same room with no one keeping an eye on our interaction.

“Good morning,” I reply as quietly as he, moving from the entrance to go see what he’s doing.

“Did you sleep well?” he asks and I stiffen just slightly. I don’t know what to think of him trying to converse. It’s so little, yet almost too much.

But like him, I promised to try.

“Alright,” I murmur, sitting down when I see that he’s making breakfast. He’s almost done, too. “… Did you?”

He shrugs, moving around for a bit to find dishes and utensils and whatnot. “I slept alright, too,” he eventually answers and I merely nod slowly at his words.

Nothing more is said when Seungri enters the room, dark circles under his eyes as prominent as ever, but it’s a step in the right direction, I think. I don’t feel as jumpy around him anymore, don’t feel as uncomfortable talking with him – at least not this little exchange of words.

Maybe there’s hope.

xXx

It isn’t unusual for me to suffer from nightly terrors. Some nights I wake up covered in sweat and with a scream on the tip of my tongue that I always manage to strangle with my palm or the pillow. I have to turn on the light, a panicky feeling taking hold of me when I look around in the darkness and I feel it is almost suffocating me.

Some nights, I can go back to sleep once I’ve calmed down; other nights I can’t.

This night I wake from one of such nightmares, heart beating away in my chest, breathing fast, frightened, and I turn on the light, scared that the darkness will end me, that monsters are waiting in the shadows, feasting on my fear and just waiting to strike.

I try to calm myself, breath hitching every time I think I see something moving from the corner of my eyes, small relieved sighs leaving me when I turn around to see nothing. I have a hand pressed to my chest, feeling how my heart beats behind it, and I dislike this side of me. I dislike being so easily scared from certain things, hate waking up in the middle of the night from terrible dreams.

I’m not crying this time, but, some nights, I wake up in tears or begin to cry once I’ve awakened.

I really am sick of crying.

My throat is dry so I decide to go down and get a glass of water. Not a good idea, I realise when I emerge from my room and am met by a dark hallway. I straighten and shake my head, scolding myself as I hurry downstairs, making sure to tread carefully. Once down, I turn on the light and let out a relieved sigh. I walk to the sink, reaching for a glass and filling it with water, then taking my time to drink it slowly.

“You’re up, too?” a soft voice asks behind me and I jolt, spinning around to see Youngbae standing in the doorway, arms folded over his bare chest and a crease on his forehead, probably wondering what I’m doing up at this hour. He doesn’t approach me, though, and I relax a bit.

“Yes… I couldn’t sleep,” I murmur, sipping to the water and avoiding his gaze.

“Yeah… I couldn’t either,” he says, quietly, and I sense more than see him coming closer, having apparently decided for a glass of water, too. I move to the side, just a few steps, and steal a glance at him when he fills the glass with tap water. My eyes trail up from his hands, his loose hair casting shadows over his face, however, I’m still able to hint the dark bruise around his eye and I frown at the sight.

The moment he turns to face me, glass by his lips to drink, I ask, hesitantly, “Does it still hurt?”

He looks at me for a moment, uncomprehending, but then he shakes his head, a faint smile on his lips. “No, or, sometimes it does, but it’s not bad. Could’ve been worse.”

I bite down my lower lip, fisting my hand at my side and tightening the grip I have on the glass. I have this urge to reach out and trail my fingers over his bruise, but I shouldn’t. It’d be wrong. Too much could be put into that single act.

“That’s good,” I murmur, drinking the rest of the content in the glass and contemplating filling it again.

“Is it alright?” he suddenly asks, shaking me from my inner debate, and I shake my head and snap my eyes to him, blinking.

“Huh?”

He worries his lower lip, smiling uncertainly. “This. Is it alright with you? Talking with you, I mean.”

“Ah, no… Yes, it’s fine,” I say, lowering my gaze to the glass and shifting my feet. “I’m alright.”

“Okay.” I look up and see him nod slowly, smile a big broader, happier, more at ease, and before I can stop myself, I’ve reached out to touch the bruise around his eye, tracing the blue and yellow and green and lilac skin. He stands frozen, his eyes on me as I’m busy studying the bruised tissue around his eye.

I retreat after some time and his eyes are still on me, following my every move. “Why couldn’t you sleep?” he asks eventually and I look away from him.

“A nightmare.”

“About what?” he prompts and at my frown, he adds, “Do you suffer from nightmares every night?”

This time I shake my head. “Only some.”

“Are they always the same?” At my nod, he grimaces and presses a finger to his lips thoughtfully. “They… Are they… I mean, am I..?”

I nod again, watching his reaction. My answer isn’t clear, but he should be able to figure the full answer out and I think he does if his frown is anything to go by.

“I’m sorry,” he says and I shrug, not at all as indifferent as the act makes me seem, and walk to the door.

“Don’t think about it,” I murmur, stopping at the doorway to look back at him. “… Sleep well.”

“Goodnight, Daesung-ah.”

xXx

I notice it in the smiles. They do, too.

“That’s it!” Seunghyun says, patting my shoulder and ruffling my hair. I whine at him, pushing him away, but there’s a smile present on my lips as I do so and the smile, I know, reaches my eyes, something it hasn’t quite done the past weeks since the hospitalisation. I feel something very near happy for the first time in what feels like forever. “Keep smiling, dongsaeng!”

Jiyong is grinning at me and I grin back. I feel so much lighter and when I look back, I see Youngbae standing near Seungri, chatting with him, but he raises his gaze just then and looks towards me and the smile on my lips dims a bit. It doesn’t leave, however, and he returns my smile with a soft one of his own.

It has been a month and the others are talking with him again. There’s still a slight hostility in the air but Jiyong and Youngbae have always been close, so it was only a matter of time before Jiyong stopped giving him the cold shoulder. Seunghyun has warmed up, too, and so has Seungri, hence they are now talking and Seungri’s laughing at something he said, probably. Youngbae’s merely smiling indulgently.

We’ve returned to a busy schedule and I’ve already had several interviews with particular interest in my recent hospitalisation. My answers to the interviewers have been _fatigue and stress_ and it’s the same answer everyone else in the band gives when asked. It isn’t a complete lie, but it definitely isn’t the whole truth.

The truth isn’t something the media should know. It’d probably ruin our career and not one of us wishes for that to happen. Besides, it’s personal and they have no right to know everything going on in our lives, so it’ll stay as a secret only known to the five of us.

I’m slowly getting used to being around Youngbae, too. I feel more at ease than ever before and I’m able to smile at him without feeling sick to my stomach. He tries to strike up a conversation now and then and I let him. Slowly, very slowly, our interaction goes from idly talk and few glances to fairly long conversations and even a few shared laughs now and then.

I remember the way he lit up the first time he made me laugh after all that’s happened. I do not recall what exactly we were talking about, but maybe it was a joke or a dry remark to something Seungri said. Not that the cause matters, really, more the result.

Seunghyun ruffles my hair again before sitting at the table and I cry out in mock offence, the smile on my lips betraying my amusement.

“Daesung-ah,” Youngbae says when I sit down and I tilt my head at him, quirking an eyebrow to show him I’m listening. “Would you like to join me at the gym later? We have nothing scheduled until evening.”

“I’ll join you,” Jiyong immediately says but I wave him off, smiling at him.

“No need, hyung. It’ll be alright,” I assure him and he nods slowly, throwing Youngbae a quick glance and then nodding again, mostly to himself this time. I turn to look at Youngbae and smile faintly. “When?”

He smiles back. “In an hour? Is that okay?”

I nod and then it’s settled. I don’t feel uncomfortable being alone with him anymore, so it should be fine.

Later, an hour and a half, to be exact, we are in the gym on the treadmill. He’s more physical fit than I, has always been, so while my breathing is slowly getting heavier, his has barely changed.

It’s nice, I find myself thinking, just being like this with him. It’s been so, so long that I cannot even remember when we last worked out together without a heavy atmosphere threatening to crush us. It used to happen often, but ever since he starting coming to see me in the night, we stopped doing such simple things like this because I couldn’t stand being around him.

It isn’t like that anymore and the thought brings a soft smile to my lips.

I run for another twenty minutes before I stop, chest heaving, and he stops together with me, throwing me a bottle of water that I quickly open in order to down at least half of its content.

“Thanks,” I say, screwing the lid back on and stealing a glance at him.

“You’re welcome,” he replies, drinking from his own bottle. “Ah, refreshing.” He meets my gaze and smiles. “How about some exercises?”

I nod and we both sit on the floor, starting out with push-ups and moving on to planks. Twenty of each and then sit-ups. Youngbae helps as I do twenty of these and then I help him, keeping his feet on the ground. Stretching follows, hamstring stretch and shoulder stretch.

Hereafter we merely lie on the floor, relaxing and enjoying the quiet as we’re the only ones present.

“That was good,” Youngbae hums and I nod, only realising moments later that he can’t see it.

“Yeah,” I sigh, closing my eyes and smiling.

It was, after all, only little more than a month ago that I couldn’t really workout for long before feeling faint and ill.

I open my eyes when I feel a presence near me and I think it’s a great feat when I don’t even jolt at seeing Youngbae so close by. He’s smiling at me, softly, and I smile back. It’s not a forced smile, I don’t have to remind myself to smile; it’s a smile that comes naturally.

He’s hovering over me, not too close or in any way threatening. “Do you want me to give you a massage?”

I have to give that a thought, have to listen to both my mind and my heart. We may be on talking terms again, but we haven’t touched much since. A single hand on the shoulder now and then, lasting for no more than a few seconds, nothing else.

“Mmmh,” I hum, sitting up and nodding at him. “If you want.”

A test.

He moves behind me and I close my eyes when his hands are on my shoulders, beginning to apply pressure and easing out the knobs. It takes a few minutes, but then I start to calm down, letting my shoulders sag and releasing a soft sigh.

“Tell me if you want me to stop,” he says gently and I nod, keeping my eyes closed and instead enjoying the massage. He’s quite good.

He massages me for a while before I tell him to stop and he does so immediately, maybe thinking he did something wrong. I smile at him to assure him that everything’s alright. He smiles back, soothed, and I stand up and stretch my arms into the air, letting out a yawn.

“Thank you,” I say.

“You’re welcome,” he says and I laugh quietly, turning around to look at him.

“Hey, hyung,” I murmur and he blinks at me. I purse my lips in thought, brows creasing, and then I reach out and pull him into a hug. He seems momentarily surprised but then he hugs me back tightly. “I wanted to,” I explain myself, resting my forehead on his left shoulder. “I thought about how we’ve evaded touching each other for more than ten seconds and then… We haven’t hugged in a long time. I wanted to.”

I feel him smile into my shoulder and hear a quiet chuckle. “I’m glad. I didn’t know if I were allowed to or not.”

I let myself _feel_ for a second. I am comfortable in his hold, _safe_ , just as it should be, and my heart isn’t beating away in my chest out of fear or anxiety.

My smile is gentle. “You may.”

xXx

It takes months, but it’s a steady improvement, one that assures that nothing’s left behind. Spring has arrived; the snow is melting, flowers are in full bloom and it isn’t nearly as cold as it used to be.

I’m happy and at ease. I don’t have to practise a smile in the mirror since they come to me naturally, genuine and real.

The others are happy, too, and we’re back to how we were before this mess started.

Maybe, actually, it’s even better than before.

“Youngbae,” I say and he turns to me, raising an eyebrow in question and smiling at me.

“Ye?” he asks, watching me in bemusement as I crouch in front of him.

“I want to try something,” I tell him. “Don’t do anything. Just let me try. I want to confirm something.”

Once he’s agreed, I lean in and hesitantly press my lips against his. He keeps his promise and does nothing as I experiment, retreating a while later, keeping my eyes closed as I once again make sure to _feel_.

I still love him. He hasn’t done anything to change my feelings for him, not since he promised me to do better; On the contrary, the feelings have only gotten warmer.

“I think I trust you,” I breathe, opening my eyes to find him watching me intently.

“Are you sure?” he asks and I tilt my head, lightening up in a warm smile.

“Yes,” I answer and he smiles.

“Then… Can we try again?” he asks and I nod, chuckling when he reaches forward and caresses my cheek with a pair of fingers before he leans in and kisses me again, soft and gentle and still a tad hesitant.

Everything isn’t perfect yet. Our relationship is far from flawless and we’ll no doubt fight again in the future, but we are improving day by day and I’m sure we’ll be able to overcome every obstacle in our way when the time comes.

For now, we’ll start anew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand, the end. I hope the ending satisfies everyone. I've had some troubles with the ending, had many thoughts about it, so I hope it's to your liking!
> 
> I seldom ask for comments, but please do tell me what you think! I aim to improve and if you don't like it, I'll do something about it.
> 
> Mmmh... Yes. Thank you very, very much for reading! It truly means a lot to me.
> 
> Until next fic!

**Author's Note:**

> The next chapter is written, but give me a day or two or three to upload it. I need to read it a couple of millions of times and edit it and yada yada. Next chapter is about three to four times longer than this intro.
> 
> Oh, and do you think I should change the title to 'Fragments of the Heart'? Tell me your thoughts!


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